I Won't Tell Anyone Your Name
by loveinasoaplessplace
Summary: AU - Kurt is a teacher. He should know better, right? But why can his student get under his skin like this?
1. Passing Notes

"I expect all of your assignments in on Monday at the beginning of class," Kurt's voice rang around the room as he had his back to the class, erasing the board, listening to the sounds of binders zipping, desks moving as students stood, and the sound of thirty kids leaving the room in a rush to get out of the classroom, out of the school, for the weekend.

He sighed softly, setting the dry erase markers in a neat line on the lip of the board, the eraser following suit, before turning around to see him sitting in his desk still, taking his sweet time cleaning up.

"Mr. Anderson, come on now." Kurt tutted quietly, rushing past him to his desk.

"Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, his voice sounding like the most masculine whine Kurt had ever heard. "Mr. Hummel, you have been avoiding me all week. Not even looking at me unless I'm answering a question, which you've been ignoring me for as well." The dark haired male stood and left his things on his desk, walking to Kurt's long desk.

"Well… what… happened that night was wrong. It's best if we just… forget about it." Kurt explained, still avoiding Blaine's eye as he looked down at a paper about last Tuesday's lesson plan he'd scrawled out. Anything to look busy.

But Blaine, of course, wasn't buying it. He put his finger under Kurt's chin and lifted his head. Kurt slid away from his touch like it was a brand, and sat up straight. "Mr. Anderson-"

"You always called me Blaine before, too."

"Mr. Anderson," Kurt murmured softly, "I'm a teacher. I can lose my job. I can go to prison. This simply cannot continue."

Blaine put his hands on the desk and leaned forwards. "What if I promise not to tell anyone your name? I won't even say I'm taken. I'm a good actor, you said so yourself when I got lead in the play."

Kurt's face went red.

"No, Blaine." He shook his head. "Please. I've got… I've got a staff meeting." He offered, crossing his arms.

—

It felt nice to get home, to have his whole studio apartment to just… relax. He flopped onto his couch, the cat coming to curl in under his armpit.  
>"Oh, Benji, what am I going to do?" He whispered to the cat, who simply closed it's eyes and purred itself to sleep in response.<p>

"…Yeah, you're helpful." He muttered. He pushed off the bed, and walked to the bathroom, stripping himself down and turning on the shower. He discarded his clothes into a neat, folded pile and set them into the dirty clothes hamper, and stepped under the water, letting it wash off the day's grime.

Unfortunately, it couldn't wash off the shame and confusion he had from a week ago. None of his showers ever did.

He could remember that evening in perfect clarity. It was right after the second last showing of the play, and he'd been in the audience. He figured he could watch the students preform and then head over to his classroom and do the last of his marking. But Blaine had been wonderful, and he'd stuck around the stage after the audience had cleared out to congratulate him.

_"You acted splendidly," Kurt offered, giving him a handshake._

_"Thanks, Mr. Hummel!" Blaine had absolutely lit up._

_"I used to act when I was in high school. If you ever need to run lines, my door is always open." Kurt had promised before walking towards his classroom, intent on getting that marking done._

_It was about ten minutes later when Blaine strolled in, making sure to 'accidentally' push the door closed behind him, and he'd sat on the __edge of Kurt's desk. "Mr. Hummel, that thing about running lines? I want to be perfect for tomorrow. It's the final show, you know?"_

_Kurt nodded, "Okay. Where's your script? We can run a few." He could finish his marking in his prep period tomorrow._

_"Thing is is… it's not… the lines that I need help with."_

_"The blocking?"_

_"Well…" Blaine shrugged, and shifted a little closer. "It's… you know the scene where I lean in and Aubrey and I are supposed to kiss? I always feel-"_

_"No. Nononono." Kurt's face got all red, and he looked down at his papers. "I can't… I cannot give you tips on kissing girls."_

_"well. What about general tips, then?"_

_Kurt looked up at him, "This conversation makes me uncomfortable." He explained, clearing his throat._

_Blaine bit his bottom lip. "Please, Mr. Hummel?"_

_Kurt mulled it over for a moment. "Okay. Well. To make it look real… put her hand behind her head, make it look like she can't possibly get any closer to you. Tilt your head in the other direction that she tilts. Don't… let it get sloppy, no one likes that." He offered, tapping his fingers on his desk._

_Blaine, who really wasn't sitting that far from Kurt, had leaned in and put his hand behind Kurt's head, "Like that?"  
>He wasn't an idiot. He knew how to kiss.<em>

_Kurt's face when bright red, "Uhm. Yes. That's… about the right place."_

_And then before Kurt could push his hand off, Blaine pulled him in for a kiss, meeting him halfway. Tilting his head. Doing everything Kurt had told him._

_When Kurt pushed him away, he opened his mouth to yell at him, but Blaine spoke first. "Like that?" His cheeks were red, and his eyes were bright.  
>And he looked so damn proud.<em>

Kurt had cleared his throat, said yes and quickly dismissed him.

Blaine had obviously known how to kiss, because that kiss… well, aside from the fact that it was his student, it had riled him up.

Even now, the memory of it, it got him hard.

He leaned against the wall of his shower, water beating his back, the temperature turning his skin red. And his hand made its way down to his length. Began stroking.  
>God, he was disgusting. Here he was, in his shower, jerking off to the memory, the idea, of kissing a student. In his classroom. After hours.<br>He bit his bottom lip as his hand worked himself a little faster, a little harder.

He could feel the tingle of Blaine's lips on his, so soft and warm. The way he kissed, like he'd done it a hundred times before but it had never been quite right until now.  
>The way Kurt had wanted, so badly, to run his tongue over those lips and taste them.<p>

"Uhg… fuck," He whispered, mouth forming the shape of an 'o' as he worked himself to his climax, releasing onto his own stomach in a sticky mess.

This would have felt so much… better… if he'd been with someone else.

He washed himself off, feeling… miserable and alone.

And then he dressed into his pyjamas and sat on his couch, staring unseeingly into the TV.

—

"Alright, see you guys tomorrow." Kurt offered, walking to his desk as the students filed out.  
>And like usual, Blaine was the last one in line.<p>

"Mr. Anderson, I need to talk to you about your assignment." He threw out before Blaine had gotten out the door.

Blaine walked over, face sullen… like it had been all class. Kurt shook his head, looking down at the assignment which, at least from the front page, was done amazingly well. "This is all wrong. I'd be glad to help you after school." He grabbed a piece of paper, scrawled his address and handed it to Blaine. Under the address was a note:

_I changed my mind.  
>My place at six<em>.

Blaine lit up. "Sure thing Mr. Hummel. See you later." He offered before bouncing out the door.


	2. Rules Were Meant For Breaking

Chapter Two: Rules Were Meant for Breaking.

Tonight was a sort of celebration. Six months ago today, he'd given Blaine the note. Oh, and how trying the first months and a had had been! Kurt had been a nervous wreck... he wasn't just risking his career, he was risking his future for this. If he was found out, he would be stamped with the title "PEDOPHILE". No school would ever want him. So there had to be rules. It was a necessary evil.

**No staying over.** The last thing Kurt needed was a minor spotted sneaking out of his house at the crack of dawn.

**Nothing less than completely professional behaviour at school.** No hanging around his door or in the classroom for anything that wasn't a legitimate homework question, because anything else was a lie and if they were both asked separately, they wouldn't be able to collaborate and they'd look guilty. And that would cause trouble.

**Fake names in the cell phones.** If someone went through their texts, it had to look innocent and harmless... not like a teacher was inviting a student over and having sex with him after school. So Kurt had been listed under 'Todd', and Blaine was listed as 'Melissa'. Just to be safe. None of the faculty even knew Kurt was gay.  
>And the most important rule?<p>

_**NEVER**_** be seen together in public.** The rumor mill in Lima didn't take much to start turning, and it never took long to get the rumor from one end of town to the other.

With these rules in place, Kurt had began to relax. Slowly but surely, it felt a little less... awful and creepy with each encounter, and a little more... perfect. He'd begun to get comfortable in the role he'd cast himself into.

A vibration and the sound of his ringtone snapped Kurt from his reverie, and he picked up the phone to read the message.  
>'<em>Need anything?'<br>__'Bring some french bread, if you don't mind'_

He set his phone down and went back to the task at hand... cooking. He'd invited Blaine over tonight, and he was going to surprise him with dinner. Among other things. He'd baked a nice seafood penne, and he'd bought some nice white wine, set up his table all pretty and his house was even cleaner than usual.

It was about ten minutes later when there was a knock on his back door, and Kurt thanked the lord once again for high fences and back alleys. Blaine knew where the back gate was, and that was how he came and went each and every time. It was nice, really. Kurt opened the door with a little smile and ushered him in.

"It smells _amazing_ in here!" Blaine exclaimed with a big grin, handing Kurt a grocery bag. With a smile, Kurt took it and pulled out a loaf of brown bread. A frown crossed his features until he turned it over. He spotted the cliche 'french painter' moustache and a beret coloured onto the bag in sharpie. "I couldn't find french bread." Blaine admitted when the Kurt had stopped laughing,

"Ugh," Kurt wiped his eyes and set the bread on the fridge, so Benji couldn't eat it, pulling Blaine in for a hug. "that was brilliant." He murmured.

"I pride myself on my sense of humor." Blaine grinned, kissing Kurt's neck and looking around the kitchen. "Kurt you... you made me food?" He asked, brown eyes wide with happiness.

"It's been six months. I thought I'd do something special." Kurt admitted, shrugging as he broke the hug. "And by special, I obviously meant feed a minor alcohol."

"Wonderful!" Blaine grinned. "How can I help?"

Dinner went well; they talked about everything other than school, they finished the bottle of wine, they ate until they were full... it was great.

But nothing could have prepared Blaine for what came next. Kurt led him to the bedroom, like usual. But they didn't stop. Instead, Kurt pulled him into the ensuite bathroom, where moments ago, Kurt had snuck off to to draw up a bath. Now, the clawfoot bathtub was full of water and bubbles and scented oils. There was candles everywhere, the lights turned off to set the mood. From an iPod dock on the counter, the soft sounds of an orchestra played.

"Kurt..." Blaine looked at him with a look that said something along the lines of 'I'm the happiest I've ever been' (or maybe Kurt was being a hopeless romantic. He couldn't read minds, after all), and their lips crashed together.

Shirts were unbuttoned hastily (though no buttons were popped off. They are men of decency, after all), and pushed off of shoulders, pants unbuttoned, forced down, kicked aside. Boxers (and boxer briefs) pushed down and out of the way. Socks, bow ties, shoes, all abandoned on Kurt's bathroom floor. Carefully, so as not to slip, Kurt climbed into the tub, leading Blaine in by the hand. When they were seated, Blaine between Kurt's legs, their lips met again, but all of the frantic desire seemed to have calmed, boiled down to a gentle passion.

Beneath the water, Kurt's hands roamed down Blaine's torso, fluttering like butterflies over his skin before finally landing on his erection. The gentle hiss that he elicited from Blaine's lips made a teasing grin flit across his own kiss swollen lips. 

Until Blaine's hands found his own length between them, that is. A soft sigh escaped him, and with that, he moved so he was on his knees, stooping a little to kiss the younger male, pulling the brunette's face as close as he could get, nipping his bottom lip. Blaine couldn't do much more than whimper. The bubbles and the smells (and not to mention the half a bottle of wine) all making him feel light headed and loose. He let Kurt move him, turn him so that his back was against Kurt's chest. And then he was being gently bent over, his hands and arms landing on the lip of the tub.

Kurt grinned a little, his fingers running down Blaine's back, landing on his hips as he bent over Blaine so his lips were right against the shell of his ear. "What do you want, Blaine?" He asked gently, lips and breath ghosting over the teen's skin. He felt the shiver run down Blaine's spine, he felt the other move, press against Kurt.

"_You_." Blaine whimpered.

Kurt didn't need any more hints. He reached over to the counter by the tub, pulling out a small bottle of lube. The water would help, but this was meant to go smoothly, painlessly. It wasn't like it was their first time, but it wasn't like it was their six hundredth. There hadn't been sex for the first two months. Messing around, hand jobs... but not penetrative sex. This was only their fourth or fifth time, really. He squirted a liberal amount of lube into his hand, coating himself with it before running his fingers over Blaine's entrance. "God, you're gorgeous."

Blaine let out a breathy laugh and hid his face. How had he ever gotten so lucky? It wasn't like Kurt was old. This was his second year teaching, and he'd started young. He had yet to worm his age out of the teacher, but he knew he couldn't be much older than twenty six. This wasn't like a twenty year difference. Kurt still looked _amazing_. "You're just flattering me." He breathed, moaning slightly as Kurt pushed a finger into him, sighing happily.  
>He was excited for this.<p>

"You know me," Kurt teased right back, and worked the finger for a moment before adding a second one, relishing in each and every sound that Blaine made in pleasure. When he knew the other was sufficiently worked, he removed his fingers, grinning at the gentle whine at the loss of his touch. "You're adorable when you pout," He breathed, and lined himself up.

"Shut up." Blaine laughed a little, and wiggled his hips in anticipation. "Come on... _Mr. Hummel_."

Kurt grinned a little, and pushed into his pupil, his hands gripping the boy's hips as he started up a gentle rhythm, his heart beating a brand into his ribcage. Why was it so hot when Blaine called him _Mr. Hummel._ Didn't that make him a pervert?  
>Right now he didn't care.<p>

Blaine started rocking against Kurt in time, gentle moans escaping his lips every now and then, his breathing getting light, soft like puffs of smoke. And Kurt kept going faster. A little deeper. A little harder. He groaned lightly, and he knew when he'd achieved his goal. He'd hit the little gland he'd been aiming for all along. He knew he'd hit it because Blaine gasped and his whole body tensed around Kurt's length, and the sweetest groan escaped his lips. They rocked together like that, Kurt continuing to hit that spot as often as he could, their nerves on fire, skin feeling burnt where it made contact with the others.

When Blaine's hand snaked down in an attempt to work himself, Kurt smacked it away gently, one of his own hands moving from Blaine's hip to work him in time with his thrusts, his breathing heavy, a coat of sweat covering his skin, hands shaking, tension building. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, it wasn't possible, Blaine was just so sweet.

With each tug of Kurt's hand, each thrust of his hips, Blaine grew closer. And when the spring in his stomach felt like it couldn't be pulled any tighter, he gasped, every muscle in his body tightening as he released in a sticky mess into the water, onto his own chest, all over Kurt's hand, "Ah, ah fuck! K-Kurt!" He gasped.

It was all too much, Blaine's velvet heat tightening around him, _gasping _his name. Kurt exploded into the other, groaning a deep, throaty sound from somewhere deep inside of him as he rode out his orgasm, gripping Blaine's hips so tight that he was sure to leave faint bruises there for a day or so.

He finally pulled out and lay against Blaine's back, wrapping his arms around him, gasping for air, chest absolutely heaving. They sunk into the water, holding onto each other, Blaine moving so that he was laying on top of Kurt, and when they could both breathe again, they cleaned themselves off.

"I love you." The words left Blaine's mouth without him even thinking about it as he stepped out of the tub.

Kurt stopped in the middle of getting up.

They hadn't said that to each other yet.

He stared at Blaine for a moment before he could speak, "What?" It wasn't a _mean_ what. It wasn't an _angry_ what. It was a _surprised_ what, the result of being caught off guard.

"I... I ah... n-nothing." Blaine offered, pulling his boxers on, grabbing his clothes, folding them over his arm. Kurt got out of the tub, pulling the drain, and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his waist. He grabbed his clothes and walked into his bedroom, beckoning for Blaine to follow. He deposited the dirty clothes into the hamper.

"Lay down with me." Kurt murmured, pulling on a clean pair of boxer briefs, climbing into his bed. Blaine looked at him for a moment, face bright red. He set his clothes down on the dresser and crawled under the covers, into Kurt's arms. "Sorry." Blaine mumbled, feeling stupid and awkward.

"Shut up." Kurt replied gently, wrapping his arms around Blaine and holding him tight. It was a good half an hour later, both of them dancing on the edge of sleep when the words sneaked out of Kurt's lips. "I love you too."

And they fell asleep, Blaine with a small smile on his lips.


End file.
